Yellow Roses
by PonderingPotter
Summary: Aurors Potter and Weasley have a longstanding rivalry with Auror Malfoy when they discover his His rather embarrassing crush on George Weasley, who has begun visiting the office to consult on products that could be used on the criminal classes. Of course, the best way to get revenge is to make George take him on a date as a joke, right? It's not like Malfoy could get hurt.
1. Chapter 1

Of all the things Malfoy could possibly have done after the war, he had to choose auroring. Really, where was the fairness in that? Harry already had to rival with him in quidditch, and now he had to compete with him at his job too? He often wondered if Malfoy had joined just to make him miserable. It wasn't even that he was a bad auror-he was actually one of their best-it was just that Harry didn't see how somebody could make such a complete turnabout in their lives and _still_ manage to be a complete git. Wouldn't fighting in a war change his attitude even a _little_? He wasn't a racist bigot anymore, sure, but he was still as rude and obnoxious as he had ever been, and that didn't seem fair to Harry in the least.

He groaned. Malfoy was currently writing up a report for a misdemeanor charge in Knockturn and, though he wasn't _actually_ doing anything wrong, Harry couldn't help glaring at his back across the office. He had insulted Harry's hair in the lift already, and pointed out a mustard stain on his uniform that he had tried and failed to hide that morning. Harry resented Malfoy more than ever when he did things like that, since he always blew through the office doors looking completely put together and professional, while Harry was often stopped by a senior auror to do something about his unruly hair.

"Stupid prick." Harry muttered under his breath, and shut the drawer to his desk a little too sharply, jamming his thumb.

"Malfoy again?" Ron asked with a heavy sigh as he frowned across the desk at his partner, watching him slip his injured finger into his mouth with a scowl.

"He's a bloody git." Harry confirmed around the appendage, raising his voice just loud enough that Malfoy could hear him. A few aurors around the room looked up from their work as well, startled, and Harry noticed with a smirk that a short witch had seen him looking at Malfoy and had nodded her agreement as subtly as she could. Harry winked at her in camaraderie.

Malfoy made a rude gesture over his shoulder, and didn't look up from his work, but said sarcastically, "Yeah, a massive git. I hear he isn't even a real blond."

A smile actually twitched on a few aurors lips, and Harry's glare hardened on Malfoy's back. Ron rolled his eyes and began shuffling parchment on his desk, telling Harry with a sigh, "Ignore him. We got illegal potion dealing again. I swear, if it's not Xavier Mollet on the third hill, it's Gregor Hart in Knockturn. How many times can you charge a guy before he gets his brewing license suspended?"

"Don't get me started on Hart." Harry groaned, forcing himself to turn back to his desk and help Ron divide the paperwork between them.

Ron sighed and nodded his agreement, complaining, "He nearly took my ear off the last time we went in to apprehend him."

"Shame that he didn't." Malfoy pretended to sulk, sitting up to pout at them as they shrugged on their coats and got up from their desks. "You could have matched your brother."

"See, I thought about that," Ron sneered, pushing his hand through his sleeve, "but then I remembered that it's your family that likes to match, not mine; what with yours and your daddies matching tattoo's."

Malfoy flushed in embarrassment, and reached to scratch at his left forearm instinctively, but stopped himself midway there and pretended to dust invisible dirt off his trouser leg. Ron shot him an innocent smirk, and Harry hid a triumphant smile by turning to grab his wand off the desktop.

"Try not to get blown up." Malfoy spat when they passed, his neck red and his arms crossed bitterly. "I don't feel like scraping savior bits off the walls today."

"Well, if you do think of something you'd like to do with the saviors 'bits', you can owl and let us know." Harry told him innocently.

"Oh, fuck you!" Malfoy shouted, and launched his paperweight across the room at them just as they ducked into the lifts, laughing to themselves when it clanged against the grate and rolled back across the floor. Ron made a point of waving with as flirty a gesture as he could manage as the office disappeared from sight.

XXXXXXXXX

"Least it wasn't a blasting curse." Ron said as they staggered back in through the ministry doors, their suspect being supported between them.

"Yeah, because a concussion charm is so much better." Harry scoffed, his ears still ringing.

"Well, it's not like it hit you. By the way, when I told you to duck, I didn't mean for you to dive headlong into a shelf of cauldrons."

"I lost my glasses, I couldn't tell what I was going for." Harry scoffed, "All I knew was that I had a bump like a dragon egg on my head, and the room was ringing like a church bell."

They hardly noticed when another pair of aurors scurried over and took their prisoner, heading for an interrogation room. A mediwitch that they kept on staff approached worriedly, but Ron waved her off, looping an arm over Harry's shoulder to proclaim, "He's already died once, nothing a potions dealer can do to do him in."

Harry took the offered headache potion wordlessly anyways, and elbowed his partner sharply in the ribs, making him laugh. He helped Harry into the lift as he took a swig of vile-tasting potion, and as soon as Harry's head cleared, he tried on a smile and said, "Least we made it back before lunch."

"That's the spirit!" Ron crowed, and they stepped quickly from the lift, suddenly aware of the emptiness in their stomachs.

"Damn." Malfoy said when they approached, his face pinched with disappointment, "Just when I thought I was through with you for the day, you come limping back in. That eager to see me?"

"Hardly." Ron snorted, and he and Harry both took their places at their desks, well away from Malfoy's.

Miraculously, they were able to work in relative silence, besides the scratching of quills on paper, until Malfoy spoke up again ten minutes later to say, lacking his usual malice, "Oh, Weasley, your brother stopped by. He's talking to Shacklebolt in his office."

"Well, why didn't you say something before?" Ron asked, setting his quill aside to frown critically at the blond. "Which one is it, then? Fred or George?"

"Like I can tell them apart?" Malfoy scoffed, then, spotting Harrys raised eyebrow, he admitted, "It was George, I think. He's brought one of his ridiculous Weasley products to try and sell to the department. As if we're that desperate for new material."

Ron was too busy studying the blond to be offended, and he asked with a frown, gesturing awkwardly at the other auror, "Did you change clothes while we were gone?"

"Well, you're about as observant as a hat rack." Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Weasley, there is one standard uniform for aurors and I've been wearing it all day. What-quit staring at me like that. What are you looking at?"

"You look different, is all." Ron said, tilting his head sideways to study him. "You're sitting up straighter."

"It's called having good posture, Weasley. It's a Malfoy trait."

Now that Ron mentioned it, there was something different about Malfoy since they had left, only he wasn't sure what it was. Malfoy definitely seemed annoyed that they had noticed it, though, if the dark color rising in his face was any indication, which meant that now they absolutely HAD to find out what he had changed about himself since they had gone.

Harry caught it first, surprised at how obvious it actually was, and asked, "Did you style your hair differently?"

"No." Malfoy said, a little too quickly, and spun around in his chair so that his back faced them. "I look exactly the same as I did this morning. Now, I'm trying work over here, if you don't mind."

"You did!" Ron crowed, grinning broadly, "Ooh, who'd you do it for, Malfoy? Is it Jane down in accounting?"

"Bet it's that Emily girl from records. She's always looking for an excuse to flirt with Malfoy. Did you go down to collect a file from her, then? Is that why you've done your hair all different?" Harry asked, enjoying himself far too much. His head always hurt much less when he was taunting Malfoy.

"That's definitely it!" Ron agreed, laughing heartily, "Well, don't you worry, Malfoy, we'll be sure to put in a good word for you."

"Git is a good word." Harry suggested, tapping the end of his quill against his chin thoughtfully.

"Arsehole has a rather nice sound to it, too." Ron nodded, and looked up to smile as George walked out of Kingsleys office, a roll of parchment under his arm and a wide smile on his face.

"Are we describing Malfoy? I heard the word 'arsehole'."

Harry threw his head back in a laugh when Malfoy flushed and glared darkly at the three of them. George came up to stop at Harry and Ron's desks, leaning against them, and Ron explained, "Malfoy here has got a massive crush on Emily from records, and we're deciding exactly what sort of words we should use to talk him up to her."

Malfoys eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms petulantly, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the group. "I hope you know that I don't give a damn about Emily from records, and you can tell her that I drink from the ministry toilets for all I care."

"Drinking from the ministry toilets?Well, that would explain why you're so full of shit, wouldn't it?" Ron smirked, and continued to study the blond, who sneered nastily at him.

"No, he clearly doesn't care about her at all," Harry grinned, "that's why he used a spell to make his cheekbones look sharper, and why he did his hair all nice just to impress her."

Malfoys hand went up to his cheek immediately, a surprised look on his face, and when the trio laughed, enjoying the guilty look on his face, he spun around and showed them his back again, determined to ignore them. George chuckled, amusement shining in his eyes, and he asked Ron in a feigned whisper, "What do you think about Bertha down in the cafeteria being his leading lady? She's a bit out of his league, but I don't want to break his heart by telling him so. He probably thinks she'll be the only witch willing to spare a glance at him just because she's eighty and has cataracts."

Harry snorted and suggested, "Maybe its Anita. You know, batty Anita who likes to make bird calls at potential suitors?"

Malfoy wasn't reacting to them, and they tried four more names of people they knew Malfoy hated before Ron pushed the blond too far, asking loudly, "Don't tell me it's Hermione?"

Without warning, a stapler was being hurled across the room at his head. Malfoys aim was better than it had been that morning, even if it didn't hit its original target, and instead cracked against Harrys knee with enough force to make his eyes water. Malfoy smiled maliciously, and wiped invisible dirt off of his hands, satisfied with his work. George was still laughing when he helped Harry to the floo network, limping and grumbling about how Malfoy deserved more than just a 'stern talk' from Kingsley when Harry was missing a half day of work to nurse his now-swollen knee. He hadn't even gotten a taco from the cafeteria yet and he had waited all week for one of those! Ron had promised to find out who Malfoy had done his hair for in consolation for the injury and missing lunch. Harry looked forward to finding out who it was, but privately worried his friend would come away with an injury from thrown office supplies as well. Somebody ought to chain Malfoy's things down to his desk if he couldn't keep his temper in check.

XXXXX

 **Authors Note:** So this is a new pairing for me, since I usually tend to write Drarry fics. I thought it would be interesting to try one with George and Draco together to play with the dynamics of their relationship and their personalities. If you want this fic to continue or if you have any corrections or questions, please feel free to comment! Even criticism is welcome. Anyways, welcome to the fic, thank you for reading, I hope you manage to find some aspect of this story likeable even if the pairing isn't something you particularily like. :)

Also, this is reuploaded with changes because the first time I posted it there were some errors and I ended up changing the end of the chapter so if you're reading this again sorry for that! And thanks for coming back!


	2. Chapter 2

They found out the true recipient of Malfoys crush on accident, oddly enough. Exactly a week had passed, and though Harry's knee was better, Malfoys attitude had suffered a hard blow and he was as waspish as ever. It wasn't technically his fault; he was always rather pissy by default, and having Harry and Ron tormenting him about his supposed crush drove him to near violence. He actually took it upon himself to lock his wand in his desk drawer to avoid hexing Ron, which usually he didn't hesitate to do.

Harry figured it was because Kingsley was already watching him, and he was trying to avoid digging himself a deeper hole. Harry couldn't help smirking to himself when he thought of the incident from two days before. Malfoy had been so preoccupied with shouting at Ron's questions about his secret love interest that he had accidentally signed his field report as 'Draco Weasley', and Kingsley had been particularly annoyed by it, especially since Malfoy was already bad enough at filling out paperwork. Ron was so amused that he had fished the crumpled report out of the bin Kingsley had thrown it in and put it in a frame on his desk. Harry took it a step farther by calling Malfoy 'Weasley' consistently since the incident. If he said it in the right tone, he could actually get the blond to respond to it, which amused not just himself and Ron but the entire office. He only hesitated to do it after Malfoy took a swing at him after hours in the hall. But Malfoy missed, so he figured he was safe for now. Besides, he rather enjoyed being the center of attention in the office for reasons other than his scar. It was refreshing. Plus, the elderly witch who sometimes came up to deliver files actually thought it was Malfoys name, and it was incredibly amusing to watch her greet him with a cheery, "Hello, Mister Weasley!"

His face had actually twitched with rage, and he threatened Harry after she left, "This had better not catch on, Potter! If people start calling me Weasley, I'll-"

"Throw another stapler at me?" Harry suggested innocently, and watched smugly as the blond sat back to glower, no doubt imagining up creative ways to torture Harry.

"Aww, don't worry, we'd never mistake you for one of us." Ron smirked across the room at him, "I've seen your dick in the washrooms, and it's far too small to belong to a Weasley."

Harry high-fived him over the desks, not caring that the joke was juvenile if it made Malfoy flush like that. Malfoy wasn't partial to dick jokes, since he had always grown up thinking they were horribly childish and crude. It only spurred Ron to make them as often as he could get away with, and if he made Malfoy uncomfortable enough the blond would squirm and stop talking to them, which was a blessing, really, as it was difficult to make Malfoy shut up.

"That's why he has to do his hair all fancy." A junior auror mock-whispered, leaning over in her seat towards Harry and Ron, her smirk damning, "He hasn't got anything under the belt to impress this girl with."

"Now you've got the trainee's talking about it too?" Malfoy groaned, slapping his quill down sharply on the desk, hard enough that the thin spine broke under his palm and the feathery end embedded itself into the soft skin just before his thumb. He drew his hand up withe a hiss of surprise, and glared at the feather sticking out from his skin. He pulled it out and pressed his free hand over the tiny swell of blood it left behind, glaring at Harry as he did so to accuse, "That was your fault."

"My fault?"

"You and your bloody gossip, and calling me 'Weasley' as if I would dare be associated with that pack of rabid gingers!" Malfoy sulked, and looked pointedly at Ron when he got to insulting his family.

"Well, you never really know. Maybe you've been ginger this whole time and haven't told us yet." Ron grinned, and clasped his hands behind his head casually. "Maybe you've been dying your hair blond because you know how ugly you look with it red."

"Yeah," The trainee auror grinned, sitting up a little in her seat, "You've seen his prick, Weasley. Does the carpet match the drapes?"

"He has not seen it!" Malfoy shouted, his face practically glowing. The trio immediately folded over on themselves to laugh, and Malfoy added almost as an afterthought, sulking, "And it does match the drapes! And stop talking about it!"

"You're too easy to get to these days." Harry chuckled when the young female auror turned back to her work, turning on her professionalism like she had flipped a switch. Harry had always admired people who could switch gears like that, and grinned at her back appreciatively. He had a feeling she would fit in well with the rest of the office.

"Excuse me if I'm behind on reports because I've had to evade your partners ridiculous questions about my love life. Spoiler alert, I'm not trying to bang the bookkeeper with the extra fingers!"

The last part was shouted at Ron, who was in the middle of sipping his coffee and choked to laugh at the undiluted rage in Malfoys voice. Harrys lips only twitched in a smirk, and he walked to Malfoys desk, thumbing through his reports and clucking his tongue to say, "You're not behind, you git, Kingsley just keeps sending them back because you can't do them properly."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, and ignored Harry, scribbling his signature on his latest report. Harry shrugged, and picked up a stack of papers that Kingsley had sent back, smirking at the note that was scrawled onto the top. He had written on the top left corner,

 _Auror Malfoy, please return these with legible responses. You make Potters handwriting look like calligraphy. Also, please refrain from using sarcasm in your criminal reports, it reflects badly on the department. I shouldn't have to keep telling you this._

"He has mentioned that your handwriting is atrocious, now that I think about it, but do you really fill your reports in with sarcasm?" Harry grinned, and was pleased to see Malfoy wave him off, indicating that Harry could very well look through the reports if he so pleased.

He opened the first one, and though he struggled to read it due to Malfoy's cramped and loopy penmanship, he did manage to see that where he was supposed to be describing the suspect he had filled in everything as vaguely as possible, clearly with the intention to annoy the reader. Where it said plainly, 'Eyes:' Malfoy had written stubbornly, '2'. Harry snorted, "You could have just filled in the eye color like a normal person. We know the suspect has got two eyes. And-Oh my god, did you seriously write that for hair?"

"Well, I can't very well answer that if I can't see what your pointing at."

"Malfoy, it asks you about hair, and you wrote down, 'Bald. He's probably got some on his balls, but I didn't think it polite ask.' Malfoy, how did you not get fired?!"

"Kingsley uses my reports to train the junior aurors in what not to do. I'm supposed to be the example you don't follow."

"I can't believe you got away with turning that in." Harry shook his head in amazement, and put the stack down carefully on Malfoys desk, making sure not to knock against the report he was currently filling out-although, with the way his handwriting looked, it might make an improvement in the way the entire thing looked. "Do you turn in all of your reports like that?"

"No, I actually like being employed, thank you very much, Potter. I only do it when Kingsley has pissed me off, or if the report is stupid anyways. This one was a complaint from some old fucker who's seven year old neighbor left a toy broom in his lawn. I'm not filing a complaint against a seven year old because some old cunt won't take the ten necessary steps down his lawn to move a plastic broom." Malfoy snorted, rolling his eyes.

"How noble of you." Harry said, and though he tried not to sound sincere he actually did sort of mean it. He had dealt with the same man before himself, always complaining about something, but he had worked with a forced professionalism and taken the complaints as seriously as he could manage. Now he wished he had taken the same route Malfoy had.

"I certainly think so." Malfoy said, lifting his nose into the air pompously, "Now go back to your desk, it's starting to smell like poor people over here."

Harry turned to leave him to his reports, amused, and glad had he had come over to snoop, when Ron wheeled his chair over to them and took up Malfoys other side, frowning suspiciously, "I thought Kingsley confiscated your stapler?"

"He said I could have it back if I promised not to throw it at Potters knee again." Malfoy sneered, and moved it out of Ron's reach in case he tried to take it, "I even said I wouldn't chuck it at your fat head, not that I meant it."

"How thoughtful." Ron replied dryly, and grumpily asked, "Aren't you supposed to be filling out reports? You've only got two and a half done in the last hour."

"I've finished more than that!" Malfoy responded with a scandalized sort of look on his face, "I'm a professional, Weasley, I do know how to multitask."

Harry chuckled, and was about to signal for Ron to follow him back to their own desks, when he spotted something in the margins of one of Malfoy's half-completed reports. He didn't have time to register what he was doing when he pointed to it and said loudly enough that half the department heard, "I hate to break this to you, Malfoy, but I don't think professionals usually write 'D+G' in a heart on their case reports."

"I didn't-"

"Let me see that!" Ron laughed, and snatched the paper off the desk before Malfoy could stop him. Over half the room was looking at them now. Malfoy looked more embarrassed than Harry had ever seen him, and he was sure Malfoy hadn't even realized he had written that down until Harry pointed it out. Ron was grinning like Christmas had come early, and asked excitedly, holding the parchment out of Malfoy's reach, "Who is 'G', Malfoy? You used your first initial so you probably used theirs too. That rules out Hermione, thank Merlin. So, who is it?"

Malfoy pursed his lips, glaring at the both of them at one, which Harry thought must be difficult since they weren't very near to one another. Ron wasn't daunted, and asked with a grimace, "Greg Goyle?"

The disgusted look on Malfoy's face was answer enough.

"Gellert Grindewald?"

"Are you serious, Weasley? Gellert Grindewald?"

Ron frowned, puzzling over names, and he asked with a grey face, as if trying to keep from being sick, "It's not Ginny, is it?"

"Merlin, no!" Malfoy scoffed, rolling his eyes, "I don't want to suffer one of her bloody awful singing valentines."

"She was eleven!" Harry cried, feeling Malfoy's eyes on him and feeling secondhand embarrassment from the unpleasant memory. The cringiness of the entire event seemed magnified now that he was older, and that just didn't seem fair at all.

Malfoy saw his discomfort and latched onto it in order to distract from his own embarrassment, singing under his breath, " _His hair as dark as a blackboard."_

Harry flushed, wondering how the tables had turned so quickly, but Ron came to his defense quickly, saying, "Imagine what she'd write about you, then? What do you think, Harry?"

As if they had prepared for it, Harry sang quickly, scrambling to keep the embarrassment off of himself and firmly on Malfoy, " _Well, I know he's not fit, but it's a good thing he's rich, cuz he should put all his funds to a personality fix."_

"Oh, please." Malfoy scoffed, "That's not even clever, and it barely rhymes."

Once again, Ron rallied and half-sang, half-shouted, his own tribute to Malfoy, his voice silencing the room when he belted out, " _His nose is so sharp it could cut you apart, and the only thing small as his dick is his heart."_

"You may as well tell us who G is, Malfoy, because we're not going to leave you alone till you tell us her name." Harry shrugged innocently, and watched Malfoys left arm to make certain he didn't make a move to grab his stapler or his wand in the top drawer. His knee still twinged when he bent it.

"Bite me." Malfoy hissed.

"Well, he's clearly planning to see her at some point today. He did his hair all fancy again, just like last Tuesday. We'll just have to trail him all day if he isn't going to tell us." Ron said slowly, measuring the look on Malfoys face carefully as he said it. Harry wondered if they would actually follow him to find out who it was.

He didn't get the chance to find out, because George Weasley had just appeared past Malfoys head, and was walking towards them with a relaxed smile. He frowned when he saw the paper in Rons hand and asked, much to Malfoys mortification, "What does the G stand for?"

Harry had pieced it together as soon as he saw the twin walking towards them, and his mouth dropped open at the idea of Malfoy having a crush on George Weasley. Malfoy saw the understanding in his face, and panic immediately took over his expression. He looked so terrified that Harry almost wasn't surprised at what came out of his mouth next, since Malfoy was never good under pressure, but nothing could possibly have prepared him for Malfoy to blurt out, "Genital herpes!" in a frazzled and slightly manic tone.

Ron choked on air. George's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he took two steps back, a smirk twitching on his lips. "Did you just say-"

"Weasley!" Kingsley interupted, his shiny head popping out from around his office door, a strained expression on his face, "Sorry, I have to move our meeting to next week. There's an emergency meeting in South Asia that I've been called in for."

"No worries, Kings!" George smiled politely, waving him off. Kingsley nodded gratefully, and dissapeared behind the door once again. George sighed and shook his head, telling Ron and Harry, "Thank Merlin for that. Everyone's come out to get their Hogwarts supplies today so Fred is swamped without me. I guess I'll see you next week."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, his mortification evident, but George turned to him and said with a playful smile, "Assuming that you were joking about the genital herpes thing, I'm going to guess the G stood for the name of that girl you're after?"

Harry coughed, and Malfoy moved his chair back and raised it ever so slightly so that one of the legs rammed against the top of Harrys foot. He had to bite his tongue to keep from cursing loudly. Malfoy was crimson, and chewed his lip for a moment before he admitted, to Harry's astonishment, "Uh, not a girl, actually. I, um, I'm gay."

"Oh." George shrugged, pleasant expression never wavering. He frowned, however, at the way Malfoys shoulders had hunched slightly, as if he expected to be cursed to yelled at. George softened his smile, and pulled his wand out of his pocket, gesturing towards Malfoys broken quill casually to ask, "May I?"

"Er, yeah. Yeah, sure." Malfoy said, stumbling over his words, his face pink. He was so nervous Harry almost felt bad for the bastard, and Ron must have taken pity on his if he was staying silent. George smiled kindly, clearly noticing Malfoy's anxiety, and with a quick spell the broken quill had been transfigured into a yellow rose.

George picked it up and held it out to him, explaining, "I didn't realize you were into men. I should have asked instead of assuming, I guess. You can give this to that boy you like; see if it increases your chances any."

Malfoy didn't look like he could speak if he wanted to, and nodded quickly, his eyes still impossibly wide and frightened. George smiled, again, a bit awkwardly, and said to Harry and Ron, "I still expect to find out who he's been doing his hair for, so don't slack off find ing out who it is. I'll see you next week. Bye, Malfoy."

when he left, and Malfoys coloring was closer to normal, Harry met his eye with a raised eyebrow, asking in near disbelief, "So the 'G' stands for-"

"It stands for Galleons!" Malfoy snapped, no longer nervous and clearly not in the mood to entertain Harry or Ron at his desk for another second, because he shot out of his seat (which Harrys foot was grateful for) and stormed off to the washrooms, leaving no room for another word.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

AUTHORS NOTE: Please make sure to comment if you liked this chapter of if you think something ought to change. :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!


End file.
